


Mausoleum of All Hope and Desire

by SpaghettiCanActivist



Series: Justified [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Gen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 19:25:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16624994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaghettiCanActivist/pseuds/SpaghettiCanActivist
Summary: It's been six years since Dean stayed at Sonny's. He's married, a kid on the way. Sam shows up and everything changes.





	Mausoleum of All Hope and Desire

Dean didn't know what to make of the gangly man/kid outside his door. They had short slightly curling hazelnut hair, slanted eyes; moist (and God how he hated that word) doe eyes. His mitt sized hands were shoved in his jean pockets, a ratty specimen if Dean'd ever seen a pair, and his shoulders were all bunched up. For someone hitting a height range acceptable for the NBA, he didn't much loom or intimidate.

The strangest thing about it though, was that the kid/man looked terribly familiar. Dean couldn't place it. Robin for her part seemed taken in by the puppy dog boy standing on the back porch steps of Millcup's Restaurant. It raised Dean's hackles. She was two months pregnant and all-innocence-and-charm wouldn't make Dean hesitate to put a bullet in him if he so much as looked cross-eyed at Dean's wife and unborn baby.

"Who is it Robin?" Dean called out, annoyed that he couldn't hear what flimflam that kid was hocking to Robin. Robin was sharp at times, but she was one of those women who loved to ruffle the hairs of little boys and give them candy, especially if they had a sob story. This guy looked like a sob story kind of guy.

Robin turned, just the most bare of bumps swelling her belly. Dean nearly smiled at the reminder of how wonderful life was. He held it back because the kid was looking at him with those eyes and this time the puppy dog look had increased power.

"His name's Sam, he says he knows you," Robin replied.

Dean went pale. Sam, it hit him because out of everything that had changed about his little brother those shy dimpled smiles, hiding of course the mischievous spirit of a pure devil, were still the self same.

"Sam?" Dean barked out hoarsely.

Sam looked eager, hesitant and nervously excited.

"Heya Dean," Sam spoke.

And yeah, that was his pain in the ass little brother, even with six years of growth that had shot him up taller than Dean.

Dean moved forward, placing himself between Sam and Robin.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Sam flinched, first shocked before settling in a confused hurt.

"I-I-" Sam stumbled, eyes flicking to Robin and that confusion still there.

Dean didn't back down. Sam had been twelve last he'd seen him. Dean didn't doubt their dad wasn't far behind and the last thing he wanted was his old life coming to steal his happy current one.

Sam's eyes flew to the dirt and a rusting can poking out from under the first wood step, tufts of hardy grass striking a living around and in it.

"I just thought it'd be nice to see you," Sam was slowly backing away, eyes looking everywhere but at Dean and his shoulders raised to his ears and stiff.

"Wait, don't be so rude Dean," Robin chastised, skillfully scooting past her husband to take a step onto the porch.

"You hold on a minute honey," Robin was addressing Sam in a much kinder tone than she had used for Dean.

Sam halted, eyes flicking up to briefly hold Robin's before falling to the ground again.

"I don't wanna make trouble," he said softly, looking all too pathetic.

Robin's eyes softened and Dean just knew he was screwed.

"You won't make any, now, why don't you come in and tell us what you're here for," Robin was already moving forward, hand on Sam's bicep and forcing him inside.

Dean stood back, not particularly happy about the turn of events but knowing that arguing with Robin about it would just make things worse for himself.

Ten minutes later Sam was tearing into a plate of leftover food from the day in a corner booth near the back. It was just past ten so they'd already closed and everybody had cleared out.

Robin was watching Sam with a look of maternal concern. Dean was watching with a series of emotions too skewed to make much sense of. There was a tiny line of concern at his brother's rather scrawny state and the way he was eating like it was the last supper.

"God, you'd think he hadn't eaten for a week," Robin murmured.

They were standing in the kitchen peering out. Sam couldn't see them and had yet to notice that he was being watched.

"Yeah," Dean grumbled.

"Who is he Dean?"

Robin was looking at him and he knew he couldn't lie.

"He's my brother," Dean admitted in a low, gruff voice.

Robin's eyes climbed up her forehead.

"You have a brother?" She asked incredulously.

Dean gave a rueful nod. Robin looked like she wanted to bite his head off and spit.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?!" She'd mastered the shouting whisper at this point in their marriage and Dean could only cringe.

"I left it behind," Dean barely managed to say, a sort of shame washing over him.

Robin blinked, gave a nod, not a forgiving one but one of understanding. Be that as it may, understanding also had nothing to do with sympathising. Robin was headed out toward the eighteen year old, willfully dismissing any of Dean's concerns. Dean followed because, well, it was his wife and there wasn't much else he could do. But also because it was Sam, and once upon a time he would have done anything for this kid.

Sam looked up, shy grin back in place along with a painfully earnest gratitude that tied Dean's stomach in knots. For god's sake, they're just feeding him.

"It's good," Sam said, glancing at his empty and very well scraped clean plate with a flush of embarrassment.

Robin just smiled.

"So, you're Dean's brother," Robin started.

Sam gave a nod, looking at Dean like a puppy waiting for approval. Dean didn't give it, but he also didn't refuse it; just kind of huffed and looked away.

"You need a place to stay?"

Robin always did get to the point. Sam flushed and his hands sort of shook before he pulled them sharply off the table and to his lap.

"Well, no, no ma'am," Sam stuttered out.

"I don't think I care, you've got a home with us so you'll be staying here."

Sam gaped. So did Dean, but Sam's was more emotional. He kept looking at Dean, waiting for rejection. Dean knew better than to argue once Robin had made a statement like that.

 

 

Dean woke up the following morning whiffing out the scent of pancakes and what smelled like apple cider. The house was right next to the restaurant and it made life easier sometimes and it made it harder at others. It was Robin's dream, and she successfully kept it running on her own. Dean lived his dream, working in a mechanic shop in town. Dean stepped out of his room and could hear the muffled sound of voices.

Furtively sneaking closer he came right up to the kitchen but didn't step in. Sam and Robin were talking.

"We lit up all of them, the field was so bright and everything was, just, awesome," Sam's voice was most definitely awed.

Dean smiled, he remembered that day, it was about a month before he got picked up by the police. Best Fourth of July ever, or at least the best during his time hunting.

"It sounds like it was a lot of fun," Robin replied, sounding completely sincere.

"It was, Dean was, is, I mean, he was the best brother a guy could ask for, is I mean," Sam said it with pure conviction.

Dean felt guilt constrict around his lungs. He stepped into the kitchen, a broad smile slapped onto his face.

"Good, you're up, the trash needs to be taken out," was the first thing out of Robin's mouth.

Dean frowned, pouting. Sam however responded first.

"I'll get it," he said, jumping up and scampering to the task.

Robin watched him do this with an approving look. When he was out the door, she turned to Dean.

"Sam is telling me all sorts of stories about you guys as kids," Robin said, side eyeing Dean in amusement.

Dean shrugged, leaning against the door feeling uncomfortable with everything. He could imagine the things Sam could say, things he'd rather Robin didn't know. Sam finished with the trash quickly and came back inside. He smiled at Dean and Robin, awkwardly shoving his hands into his jean pockets. Robin moved over to the stove top where pancakes were cooking along with an apple cider syrup. Sam hovered at the table, not sitting, but awkward as though he wasn't sure what to do. Dean helped Robin get the food on the table.

When they finished breakfast, Robin asking Sam questions the whole time and trying to get the two reticent men to talk, Sam hopped up and insisted on doing the dishes. Robin let him and Dean insisted that he needed to get to work.

Robin smacked him on the arm.

"You take him with you," Robin hissed, glaring at Dean as he tried to escape out the door.

Sam was finishing the dishes.

"How about you head to work with Dean, catch up and everything?" Robin suggested.

Sam looked hopeful, but he looked at Dean. Dean knew that his face wasn't inviting. Sam's hopeful look was squashed into a mildly polite one.

"Oh, no, no, I should get back on the road," Sam held his hands up, "I've already lost a bit of time, and I'm sure you two, you're busy."

Dean blinked. Robin gave a nod, escorted Sam out and made him promise to visit again. Sam pulled away in an old rusted sedan.

They didn't talk about it, the event having passed so strangely and suddenly that it didn't feel quite real. It was only at dinner that they talked.

"He was nice," Robin said, looking up at Dean with a considering look.

Dean felt weird, Sam had whisked in an then out. Dean had forfeit his big brother role a long time ago.

"He seems to think the world of you, offered to help us out if we needed it."

Dean looked up at Robin in surprise. Robin gave a nod of her head.

"I don't think I've ever seen such a bad case of hero worship," she needled, a grin creeping up her face.

Dean ducked his head, flushing, because he'd abandoned Sam, left his brother behind to have his own life. Sam should hate him.

Dean thought about Sam, a lot, stared at the number his little brother had left behind. He never summed up the courage to call.

 

 

A month later Robin was in a car accident. There was a miscarriage within the first hours, complications involving Robin in the next day. By the end of the week Robin was given a couple days at the most. Dean grieved, body numb and absent as he watched the love of his life disintegrate, as his hopes and dreams collapsed on themselves.

Robin died on a Sunday, she was buried that Wednesday. A bunch of townspeople showed up, Sonny was there, clapping Dean on the shoulder and offering what comfort he could. The guys from the mechanic shop, some of them good friends, offered as many condolences as they had. Regulars from the diner came and employees who had worked for Robin and knew her to be a good, fair woman cried as white lilies were spread across the freshly dug grave. Dean took it all in silence. He could've sworn that he'd seen a mop of auburn hair floating above the crowd, tall gangly figure familiar. But the figure was gone as soon as he'd seen it.

The funeral finished and Dean helped sell the diner, it went easily enough, a popular place picked up by another young couple who were looking to settle in a nice small town. They told Dean how sorry they were about what had happened.

Dean sold the house too, put it on the market and got a small studio closer to the mechanic shop he worked at.

A month went by and life dragged on, insisting that Robin's death was just a small inconvenience to the world turning, if that.

Finally, Dean summed up the courage. He opened his phone and called Sam.


End file.
